


and the cat is killed

by aluinihi



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Implied Relationships, Inspired by Art, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Roy Mustang is a scorpio fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19362172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aluinihi/pseuds/aluinihi
Summary: Y’know, people say Jean is not that bright but, honestly? He is not that dumb either.Inspired bythis amazing artby@IvyIB2on Twitter.





	and the cat is killed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pepparine](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Pepparine).



> This is!! Technically!! _My first commission!!_ And it was [Pepparine](https://twitter.com/pepparine)!!! She seriously closed one of her commission slots for _this_ , and I'm in a state of overjoy!
> 
> This is based on [this amazing art by @IvyIB2](https://twitter.com/IvyIB2/status/1142408051674103809) on Twitter that I won't ever forget!

Jean’s favorite days are  _ Hawkeye-is-away _ days. Almost when like a lady taking off her tight dress, the entire office takes one big, relieved breath — relaxed, at last, without those hunter’s eyes looming over everyone. It is rare, but whenever it happens, it seems that time goes slow and easy, the sky is bluer and the birds sing louder.

Sometimes, Jean lays his head down on his desk and takes a nap — not like the chief is going to see, he is usually taking one of his own too. Then he wakes up, does a thing or two, then pulls his chair over to the window to chat with Breda for a bit and smoke a few cigs. After that, he can still do more work stuff before dragging Fuery to have lunch with him —  _ someone  _ has to pay for the food, right? When they come back, he still has enough time to pester the boss, and if that isn’t a good day, Havoc doesn’t know what is.

Edward Elric is one funny, little guy — emphasis on  _ little _ , Ed is probably the first soldier he’s met that doesn’t even reach his chin; that blond antenna hits Jean’s chest at best. Perhaps another emphasis on  _ funny _ , because he deserves it: all he needs is to hear a few words and then his face turns dark red, his entire body shaking in anger. Maybe Jean should also emphasize  _ guy _ , because sometimes he catches himself using  _ those words _ to describe him.

Words like, you know,  _ ‘cute’ _ . And variations.

But the thing is, irritating the boss is a good pastime, and Jean can’t  _ not  _ do it. It’s been a matter of necessity for a few weeks now. Those glares through squinted eyes the short blond throws him are definitely something. 

He is patiently waiting for the boy to come out of the chief’s office to have his turn with the teasing when a busty private walks in, pressing a couple of manila folders to her chest. Her dark brown hair is up in a tight bun, her full lips press together as her eyes scan the room — in the split of a second Jean’s catches her gaze, he stands up to offer help.

“Those are for Colonel Mustang,” she says, then dumps all the files on Jean’s arms before saluting stiffly and leaving him behind.

Jean sighs. Why do beautiful women bring so much work? Taking a glance at the name scribbled on the folders’ labels, he figures he should probably hurry and hand those to the recipient — higher-up stuff has priority. He dutifully makes his way to the wooden door, knocks on the door and, like the good officer he certainly is, waits for permission to enter.

The scene he sees when he steps inside the inner office is unexpected, although not impossible: Ed standing in front of the chief’s desk, his cheeks pink and arms crossed, and the chief himself smirks smugger than ever. Not unexpected, but Ed’s slumped shoulders do add a different vibe to their interrupted interaction, and the embarrassed look on his face ignites the curiosity on the back of Jean’s mind.

“Havoc,” Mustang greets, “your timing is always impeccable.”

Trying to not think about whatever is implied in that line, he walks up to them, feigning indifference to the young blond to his side, and places the files on the desk next to another pile of documents. “Uh, that’s some higher-up stuff for you, chief. Figured it’s best to give ‘em to you already.”

Before he has the chance to escape Mustang’s very unfamiliar glare, something catches his eye. Right there, over the tanned skin of Ed’s chest, is this thin silver chain — shiny, shiny, and Jean isn’t that fond of controlling his crow brain, so he is not fully aware when invades the boy’s personal space to tug at the necklace.

“Hey, boss, what’s thi—”

The successive reaction that cuts him off is the scariest thing Jean has ever witnessed.

Edward’s body follows the chain as Jean’s pulls it, his back arching almost unnaturally and within the panic coursing through his veins, Jean has this  _ moment of clarity _ — because at some point the necklace simply. Stops. The end doesn’t come out from under the alchemist’s black vest. Instead, it seems to be stuck at some point on his— 

“ _ A-ah…! _ ”

And that is. A  _ moan _ . A five-star porn type of moan.

Jean lets go of the chain as if it burns him.

The boy’s entire frame  _ retracts _ , the loose blond strand falling over his face and failing to cover the blush running from his cheek all the way to his ears and down his neck. He is red, red, redder than that cute coat he usually wears. There is, however, a sense of impending doom blooming inside Jean’s belly as he feels his own face heating up at the sight of—  _ big, golden eyes glaring at him in a mix of anger and embarrassment  _ and holy shit, Jean wants to run away.

“ _ What the fuck is wrong with you?!” _ he growls through bared teeth. 

He looks absolutely ready to throttle Jean. His breathing is ragged, yet one of his hands is closed in a tight fist while the other massages his chest right over his—  _ oh. _

Y’know, people say Jean is not that bright but, honestly? He is not that dumb either.

Realization shows on Ed’s face — Jean doesn’t know if Ed knows that he knows, and maybe the young alchemist just feels way too self-conscious about his, uh,  _ reaction _ . In a split of a second, Edward is by the door and Jean has no intention of stopping him.

There is the loud  _ thud _ of the door being kicked shut and Jean is left alone with his wondering mind. And Colonel Mustang. With great apprehension, he slowly turns to face the other man, only to verify that the correct course of action was walking straight out of the office with his head down.

Mustang taps his fingers on the tabletop, the array on his gloves shining almost as threateningly as his eyes.

“In fact, I am also wondering,” he snarls, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jean doesn’t stay there long enough to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I must show [THE ART](https://twitter.com/IvyIB2/status/1142408051674103809), mostly because of how much I love it!
> 
> Thank you for reading! [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aluinihi) and [tumblr](https://aluinihi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
